yesterday's lover
by leave me your stardust
Summary: Working with Mackenzie is like walking down a familiar staircase, thinking you know all its twists and turns like the back of your hand until suddenly there's a new step or one slightly different from how you remember it, and you wind up falling on your ass.


**Disclaimer:** I feel this story needs multiple disclaimers.  
One: I obviously don't own anything to do with The Newsroom.  
Two: I'm sorry about this. I don't even know what it is, other than a shameless attempt to angst over insecurity!Will.  
Three: my friend recently went through a break up and had to chuck out all the hair products his girlfriend left and this was the result because I'm such an awesome friend that I will turn your misery into fanfic inspiration!

* * *

_and if we were really meant to be, _  
_well then we've just defied destiny._

There is something incredibly jarring about constantly being in the presence of a former lover, Will has decided. Working with Mackenzie is like walking down a familiar staircase, thinking you know all its twists and turns like the back of your hand until suddenly there's a new step or one slightly different from how you remember it, and you wind up falling on your ass. He knows her body, knows her taste, knows how to make her shudder if he moves his hands just right but she's no longer his and so the constant barrage of mental images have to be nothing more than memories. Her hip brushes against his as she strides beside him and he digs his nails into the palm of his hand.

It's fucking unnerving, that's what it is, and up until very recently Will has made his entire life work on the premise that he, under no circumstances, is taken by surprise. Mackenzie McHale does nothing but take him surprise, she always has, and Will would hate her for it except some small, traitorous part of him still likes it. (Because here's the thing: he doesn't hate Mackenzie, not really, and that's part of the reason why he's so angry at her.)

Sometimes he thinks he had their relationship figured out, battle lines firmly drawn, and then she goes and pulls something like this – the whole news team lining up to recreate a scene from Rudy, to help out Khalid, and Mac smiling up at him. If Will's life was a movie then this would be the feel-good montage where everything finally comes together and the show is successful and the hero gets the girl. But Will's not a hero ("_You're enabling an ass_") and he wasn't enough to keep the girl so he settles for second best, pulling Mackenzie into his arms and pretending not to notice Maggie tripping over the rug as she leaves his office. He hadn't exactly thought it through much beyond "quick, do something before she thinks you don't care," and so is entirely unprepared for the stab of longing in his gut that arises from the feel of Mackenzie in his arms again, her nose brushing against his skin as she tucks her face into the crook of his neck and sends a wave of goosebumps rippling along his collarbone. She sighs softly and somewhat (dare he hope?) wistfully, her hands coming up to grip him tight, her thumb stroking lightly over his shoulder blade. It should just be a brief, chaste hug between friends – at the very least, it should be slightly awkward – but it just feels so fucking _right_. He dips his head just so, allowing his lips brushing over her hair in a feather-light kiss but still natural enough that he could play it off as an accident if she calls him on it.

"Mac, I," He mutters, swallowing thickly, and she tenses in his arms.

It's that motion that screws him over in the end though, as he inhales a sweet floral scent and realizes, with a sickening jolt, that she's changed her shampoo. It shouldn't be a big thing but as long as Will's known her, Mac has always favoured a disgustingly expensive cinnamon concoction that costs twice as much as normal hair products.

"Just humour me, Will," She'd said once when he'd suggested she switch to a cheaper brand. "It's my one vice!" She added, defiantly, as she poured herself a third cup of coffee and folded down the corner in the shoe magazine she'd been flicking through. Will hadn't had the heart to correct her as she stood in his kitchen, her hair adorably tousled and dressed only in one of his oversized work shirts, and so he'd simply bit back a smirk and tugged her towards him, her delighted laughter muffled against his lips. Three weeks later he'd found out that, no, that definitely wasn't her only vice and he was left with over a litre of shampoo that would now never get used in his shower.

It's now another part of her that's changed, that no longer fits with the Mackenzie who haunts his dreams, and it feels oddly like losing her all over again.

Will doesn't know what it means that she's changed shampoo, a more optimistic man than him might choose to interpret it as a type of catalyst, a new era for them both, but instead it just feels like a smack in the face. Here is another way that you failed to keep her yours. Here is another way that she severed ties. Reluctantly, he steps back, letting his arms fall away from her and turns to clap Neal on the shoulder, trying to avoid seeing the hurt and confused expression that briefly flickers across her face.

Its better this way, he reminds himself, and tries not to wonder why it still doesn't sound true.


End file.
